when mack suggests that he drive them an hour to sf instead of, well, driving 50 minutes to visit his parents or something, will is buzzing. he's drowning in affection for the thoughtful side of mack, the one that hardly anyone ever sees because he's cautious about it being rejected. nervous about people not liking his ideas or opinions outside of hockey. the side that will has been coaxing out, earning the trust to know. the part of mack that wants to pick will up and make him happy again, even though the sliver of doubt in his mind tells him that someone knows will better. there's someone out there that could fulfill will's wants and needs better than he can. and mack doesn't really like to play unless he knows he has a chance of winning.

but he tries. he reassures himself that he knows now that will is at his happiest when he feels like he can pretend to be any other guy off the street. knows that will loves his stage, putting on his mask, being broadcasted on screens all over the world. in contrast, mack knows he loves to embrace any strand of normalcy that he can get a grip on. he wants to hand that to will because will offers that up so often, so freely to him.

i'll drive us there! i'll pay for as many espresso martinis as you can drink! i'll willingly take selfies with the random puck knower at the bar because it makes your smile so soft on my skin! you can throw up next to me and i'll wipe your face and wash your hands! i'll drive us to the game tomorrow, and i'll drive us to cat's after for a night of catan!